


White Wolf

by iellawritestonight



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, There are additional characters, You're older than T'Challa, bu they're OCs, you have powers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 03:01:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15209423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iellawritestonight/pseuds/iellawritestonight
Summary: This is a fic based on the end-credit scene in Black Panther where Bucky is found to be living in a small village in Wakanda. This story is about him and the person that helped him heal. You.





	1. Two Favors...

**Author's Note:**

> This is a POC fic.

For years you’d been separated from your family. There was nothing wrong between all of you, it’s just, the politics of being in the royal family didn’t settle with you. You wanted to pursue the art of healing. You wanted to be away from the burdens of becoming queen. So you refused the throne, and moved out to the more rural parts of Wakanda. For the past few years, you became a healer, and helped the small community you lived with in whatever way you could.

You folded the cut watermelon into a cloth, and turned to one of the village girls standing next to you. “Here, take this to Mama Jamila, yes?”

The small girl nodded, and happily took the watermelon from your hands and ran off towards the fields. You watched after her, she gave the watermelon to the person you instructed, Mama Jamila waved to you in thanks, and you waved back.

Turning back to the rest of the fruit, you spotted someone walking towards you, the royal talon flyer behind him.

You smiled wide, and laid a cloth over the fruit, opening your arms for you little brother to hug you. The two of you embraced in a long hug, and separated, only to hold his face in your hands, and press your forehead’s together. “I’ve missed you, T’Challa.”

“I’ve missed you too, Y/n.” He sighed, and continued. “I wish that you would finally move back home.”

“You know I love it out here.” You let go and turned back to cutting the fruit. “I can’t stand the bustling of the city.”

“I know. I know.”

“So, what do you need? I know you just came up here to ask me for something.” You moved the cut fruit to the side, and started packing it into one of the bowls. You picked up the bowl, and looked at your brother again.

He chuckled nervously, “Can’t I just come by to see my sister who never comes over?”

You raised an eyebrow and shifted your weight your other hip.

“Okay, okay. I have two favors to ask.” He admitted.

“Go ahead.” You started walking away, and T’Challa followed keeping step right next to you. The Dora Milaje keeping a respective distance as they followed too. You all made your way back to the village.

“Come to my coronation?” T’Challa asked.

“I’m required to, brother.” You readjusted your basket to rest on top of your head scarf, holding onto it with one hand as you walked.

“You were required to become queen.” He reminded you matter-of-factly. 

“Haha. I will be there T’Challa. Even if I wasn’t required, I would still go. Right next to mother and Shuri.” You smiled, reassuring him.

T’Challa smiled back. “Now, for the hard part.”

You raised an eyebrow, wondering what he would ask of you next.

“I have someone who needs your help with healing.” He explained.

“My help? Didn’t Shuri find out some way to use vibranium to heal people in some way or another?” You questioned confused on what would warrant going back to the “old ways” to heal someone.

“Yes, she did, and it works great, but there are some things that even vibranium can’t heal…”

“The mind.” You finished. T’Challa nodded. “Okay, who is it?”

The two of you reached your hut, and you waited at the entrance for his answer.

“An outsider.” T’Challa waited for the backlash, which came almost immediately.

You looked him dead in the eye, trying to see if he was joking with you or not. When you saw the seriousness, you leaned back in disbelief that he would even ask for something like this. Not after what happened the last time.

“No.” You entered your hut without another word. Your brother followed after you.

“Please.”

“No.” You set your basket of fruit on your counter, taking out the uncut fruit, and putting it back in its place.

“Hear me out, Y/n.”

You turned to him, “T’Challa I’ve told you time and time again…”

“And I have listened. I know how you feel.” He took your hands in his and gave you pleading eyes. “This is just one favor. I owe it to him, and you’re best equipped for this. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

You took your hands from his, and sighed. He was pleading with you which is something he only did when he was feeling guilty. You debated in your head whether to agree or not.

“No, and that’s my final answer.” You didn’t dare to look at your brother. You were familiar with the sad look in his eyes that could make you do anything ever since you were kids.

But this time, it wasn’t his eyes, it was what he said, that made you change your mind. “Y/n, he helped me catch father’s killer.”

You looked into his eyes, hoping he wasn’t just saying this to convince you. The tears were already filling your vision, remembering again the last thing you said to your father all those years ago, Still regretting it. You wiped them away before they could fall.

“You… you caught him?” You asked, knowing full well the answer. T’Challa wouldn’t have come back until he got him.

He nodded. “Yes, and he’ll never hurt anyone ever again where he’s going.”

The news of Baba’s death almost made you want to take up the mantle. Almost. You knew that T’Challa could do it, and better than you, so you let him.

He was born to be the Black Panther, you were just born before him.

You sniffled and wiped away the tears again, changing your mind, “I want to meet him.”

A smile broke out on your brother’s face, surprised that you actually agreed, “N'cos, sister.”

Thinking he was going to leave, you smiled and placed your hand on his face, touching your forehead’s together. You felt his desperation for you to say yes. It only made you sadder to refuse him. You sighed.

“Don’t be a stranger.” You whispered.

“I could say the same, Y/n. You have to come visit Birnin Zana soon, stay for a while.”

“Go.” You said,turning back to your fruit, picking up on to eat. “Get the outsider, and bring him here.”

“Luckily, he’s right outside, so I don’t have to go far.” T’Challa said smugly.

You stopped midway into biting your cut fruit and placed a hand on your hip. “You knew I was going to say yes, didn’t you?” 

“When have you ever said no to me?” He smirked and backed out of the hut. Waving hello to a couple of kids before motioning for someone to come forwards, he directed them into the hut.

You gasped, seeing the man you were supposed to care for in a capsule. He looked like he was sleeping, frost outlining the glass. You could tell he had been through a lot, bags under his eyes, making him look worn down. You were scared to get closer at first. He looked too godly to be human. It sent shivers down your back. You slowly stepped closer and closer one foot at a time, until you were almost touching the capsule. You reached up and touched the capsule where his head was, and closed your eyes, opening yourself up to feel what he felt.

T’Challa and the lab technicians watched quietly as you studied the man’s emotions. Your eyebrows knitted together in concern, feeling his fear, his guilt, and his disgust for himself, but under all of that you felt his hope. The fruit fell to the floor and you reached up with your—now free—hand and placed it on his heart. Deep inside there was hope. A small, tiny, minuscule, but still there. His feelings over come you and you start to cry.

He’s been through so much.

In a matter of seconds your mind was made up. You kept your face stoic, still affected by the hurt in his heart, and took a step back. T’Challa, saw the look on your face crossed to you. He placed a hand on your shoulder bringing you back to reality.

You let out a breath, you didn’t know you were holding and brought your hands up to hold your arms, trying to heat them back up again.

“Take him out please.” You breathed out, stepping farther away from the capsule.

T’Challa’s face fell. He thought you had refused to help the man. He sighed and motioned for the lab technicians to take the capsule away.

They started to roll him away and you spoke up, quickly. “Yima. Wait. I meant take him out of the capsule. I can’t work will glass and frost in my way.”

As they shut down the capsule and removed the man, T’Challa stood next to you, a happy smile etched on his face.

“What are you smiling about?” You asked, raising an eyebrow, and eating some of the fruit from the bowl.

“Nothing.” T’Challa answered a little too fast, which only made you more curious. “I just think he’s going to like it it here.”

“Mhm…” You buy into his statement. “Speaking of him… What’s his name?”


	2. Fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important Stuff:   
> → Yima: Wait  
> → Hayi: No  
> → Damisa-Sarki: The Panther

“Bucky…” You whispered to yourself. Bringing more blankets over to cover the man with.

Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes or Bucky as his friends called him.

You liked the name.

It was different from what you usually heard.

Exotic.

You laid the blanket over his now rapidly warming body. By now, the night had helped him heat up even more from the day before. You adjusted the blanket, and brushed the hair away from his face. With a closer view, you realized your observations weren’t that far off. He was a beautiful man. Though, the bags under his eyes showed he was seriously sleep deprived. You didn’t need to touch them to know that. You wondered what kept him up through the night.

Probably running from the people who’s imprisoned him.

Through the capsule, you hadn’t noticed his broad chest and shaped arms, completing an equally fit body. You observed his body closely, only lifting the blankets where needed. The dim light inside of your hut was more than enough to see the damage done to his left arm or lack thereof.

You reached out and touched what was left. There was scarring tissue along where you assumed the artificial arm had been attached carelessly. Your shook your head, feeling the pain still there, teeth grinding in disbelief trying to figure out who would be so cruel to do something like this. It’s why you didn’t like the outside world. People were too unpredictable. In Wakanda, it wasn’t any different, but at least here you had support. Family to protect you if you needed it.

From what T’Challa told you, whoever had him before had only taken care of him enough to use him, then put him back on ice. It seemed that kind of treatment followed Bucky through the years he had escaped, but he looked in better shape than what T’Challa described. The scarring on his arm had healed, significantly, only showing faint signs of what was previously done. You were sure it was Shuri’s doing. Your smart sister never ceased to amaze you with what she could do.

You smiled solemnly at the thought of her. Oh how you missed her. But today you would see her again.

The sun showed its ascent through the opening in the front of your hut. You turned your attentions to the bowl beside you and mixing ingredients to soothe the pain in his arm before you left for the day.

For a long time, Bucky had only experience darkness. From the moment he fell from that train car to the moment he froze over again in the Wakandan lab. But sometimes, darkness wasn’t that bad. As soon as he froze over, his brain had shutdown, not having the chance to put him to any more nightmares that would keep him up through the night. That’s why when they started again, Bucky knew something was wrong.

Just like every time he was woken up from that endless sleep.

He woke up from the nightmare, slowly pulling from it instead of yanking himself away from it. He didn’t know where he was. He couldn’t be sure he was still in the Wakandan lab, they wouldn’t take him out, would they? Only possible answer would be that Wakanda was infiltrated somehow, and H.Y.D.R.A. had found him again. After all, he did make a lot of noise in Germany.

Coming to consciousness, he felt hands on his body, heat escaping from him where heavy layers were lifted. He wished for the layers to stay down. He was always so cold coming out of Cyro; no matter how much heat they used to take him out.

He felt his hair being brushed away from his face by a warm and gentle hand. A gentleness that he wasn’t sure of. Was it a trick, or was the person who was touching him actually trying to help him? He had no way of knowing for sure.

Unless…

He opened his eyes, slowly, carefully, as if he could be caught at any moment. The person–a woman– was observing him, wearing tribal robes similar to those he had seen coming into Wakanda. The woman’s profile was stunning, focused on the task at hand, observing him. She lifted, touched him and replaced the blankets on both sides of his body. Her eyes were closed most of the time, her face transforming from calm to pain, Bucky observed, where she touched the places his scars where from many past missions.

There was something different about her, that Bucky couldn’t quite put his finger on.

He tore his eyes away from her and looked around the space, not moving his head much, though he assumed she wouldn’t open her eyes anytime soon. He was laying on a cot in what looked like a hut that was decorated with brown and reds. Necklaces hanging from hooks, robes folded on shelves, sandals settled against the walls. The rest of the hut was filled with decorations and some pictures of people he couldn’t see from this angle.

He had to give it to HYDRA at least this time the fake scenario, that made him think he was still safe, was actually convincing before they burst through the door, and kill whoever this poor girl is they made do this to teach him a lesson that he could never get away.

He could never get away.

He almost flinched, closing his eyes, as she made her way back up to his left arm, touching his scars. Places he had scraped at with his nails where the metal had irritated his skin. The inflamed scars made her fingers glide up and down and side to side as she followed them. He slowly inched his eyes open again, taking peaks at the girls and how she grimaced feeling his scars.

Great. She thought they were disgusting and horrible too.

She took her hand away from him and opened her eyes, picking up a pestle and mortar from beside her, and placing it in her lap. She picked up the wooden pestle and started to grind the herbs inside of it into a paste. Her hands gripped the bowl and worked the pestle into the bowl with precision before she set it down next to her and put her hands into the bowl again to gather the paste inside.

Her hands came back up, fingertips covered in purple paste. She leaned over him to reach his left side.

Bucky saw this as his chance.

He hopped up and grabbed her neck, overpowering her with no problem.

She gasped in surprise, and yelped when her head it the clothed floor. Her eyes filled with terror, Bucky could feel her heartbeat hammer against his hand, he squeezed tighter.

“Where am I?! Who are you?!” He demanded. She whimpered and flinched, pressing herself even more into the ground.

She was scared, struggling to breathe. So was bucky, and suddenly, he became aware of her nails digging into his arm, trying to pull his hand away from her, the purple paste smearing on his skin. He remembered that she might be innocent in this facade. His face softened and he slowly began to let go of her, but just as he released his grip two women rushed inside. Both wearing uniforms of the Dora Milaje. The Wakandan Royal Guard.

Bucky distracted by their entrance, released his death grip on the woman’s throat. Just as Bucky did earlier, she took this opportunity, and used his arm for support, as she slipped from under it, and lifted her legs to lock around his neck. She whipped his body to the side, so that he was the one laying on the ground. He couldn’t possibly get out of the position it in his state, at least not with the strength she held in her hands.

She panted trying to catch her breath, and looked into his eyes, no anger shown in them, that Bucky could see. She moved a hand up to touch his, “I promise you. I am not here to hurt you. Now sleep.”

Suddenly, Bucky felt a rush of peace and tranquility. His fear and thoughts of conspiracy exited his mind, and for the first time in seventy long years he felt alright again. He visibly relaxed, and fell into a deep sleep.

You exhaled slowly, and let go of Bucky’s arm, slowly standing away from him. Staggering and leaning against the side of your hut, feeling drained before the day even fully started.

The Dora rushed forward, Ayo rushing to you, while the other pointed her spear at Bucky.

“Princess, are you okay?” Ayo asked you, leaning her spear against the wall next to you and starting to examine your neck.

“I’m fine.” You said quickly and directed your attention to the other Dora, threatening to execute Bucky with how close she was holding the spear to his throat.

“Yima! Don’t hurt him!” You tried to go to defend him, but Ayo held you back.

“Hayi!” The other Dora told you.

“No! He did nothing wrong!” You defended.

“Y/n, he made an attempt on your life. You may have denounced Damisa-Sarki,” Ayo pushed you back into the wall, “but you still carry the title of princess. You are apart of the royal family. If there is a threat to the family, we are to neutralize it. It is our job.”

“It is also your job to follow my orders.” You reminded her, staring her down. You never liked to pull up that card, but it was true, it wasn’t something you could get away from. You were born into the royal family, and no matter how much you ran from it, it was still apart of you.

“He was scared. He woke up in a place he didn’t last remember and did the only thing he knew how. He tried to survive. You can’t tell me that if you weren’t in his situation, you wouldn’t do the same thing.” You tried to reason with the Dora. Looking from them to Bucky’s sleeping form, hoping you convinced them to spare his life or not take him to prison.

Ayo sighed, and released you, the other Dora standing down as well.

You rushed to Bucky, and again moved the hair from his face, carefully, before moving him back to lay on the cot and cover him back up.

Once finished, you sat back and watched him sleep, knowing he wouldn’t wake up for a while. You remembered what you felt when he touched you. Pain, suffering, a sense of hopelessness, something you never wanted to feel again, but you knew that treating him, you would.

“Princess. We have to get going if we want to get there in time.” Ayo informed you.

You stood silently for a minute, still watching him sleep soundly.

“Princess-”

“Okay. “ You said as you tore your eyes away from him. “Let’s go.”


End file.
